


Its Time The King Woke Up

by violentxylophone



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Humor, Fili and Kili also come back to life because they are precious babies', Fix-It, I can't believe I wrote a fic with my OC, M/M, Thilbo, Thorin comes back to life, bagginshield, its a big hooplah, kinda sad kinda funny, mostly confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentxylophone/pseuds/violentxylophone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to write a fic that did two things: 1.) Bring Thorin, Fili, and Kili back to life because I'm in intense denial. 2.) Introduce my OC. Also, a teensy bit of Bagginshield but that can be overlooked.</p><p>**Update: As of chapter 2, Bagginshield cannot be overlooked. Oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In the throne room, Thorin lie dead on a slab awaiting burial, Fili and Kili on their own slabs to his left and right. The other dwarves were solemnly scattered about the room. It had been two days since the end of the battle, and Bilbo couldn’t bear the grief any longer. He had to get away. He said his goodbyes to Balin and the rest of the company, turning with Gandalf towards the long road home. As they crossed the bridge from Erebor to the outside world, a stranger walked in the opposite direction, with a green cloak hiding their face so as to not be seen. Bilbo ignored the visitor, many came into the kingdom to see their fallen king. But just as he and Gandalf were about to pass, the stranger walked in between them, grabbing them forcefully by the arms and saying, “Oh no ya don't, Hobbit, Thorin’ll want to see you when he wakes up, don’cha think?”

Bilbo wanted to get away but noticed Gandalf complied, and so allowed himself to be dragged back to the dead king. The stranger was a little taller than him, so it was awkward and he had to run on his toes. But something didn’t sit right with him. “He’s dead, I’m sorry. Did you not hear?”

The stranger let go, ignoring him as they marched up the steps. Bilbo followed them, though he didn’t know why. The visitor reached the throne room and walked right up to Thorin’s body. They sighed, and Balin spoke up. “Did you know our king?”

In a sharp divergence from the depressing mood, the stranger laughed. “Barely.” came the answer, and they lifted the cloak covering their face. To Bilbo’s surprise, Dwalin and Balin both let out a gasp. He had no idea what could have been so striking about this stranger to leave the normally stoic duo with their mouths gaping open. “Velti…”Balin whispered in amazement. “You, y-you’re...dead?” It was supposed to be a statement but came out as a question.

“Not quite.” Again she laughed. Bilbo still puzzled over the stranger. There was nothing exceedingly remarkable about her. She had the face of a dwarf, with small tufts of hair on growing on the sides of her chin. A single long, dark braid down her back, secured with a bronze bead that could only be of dwarvish make, confirmed that. However, she was too tall to be a dwarf, still, Bilbo thought she may be short for a human. She dressed in human clothes, except her cloak, which seemed old, belonging to an old race perhaps, which he knew little of. Her smile had a mischievous glint to it, but Bilbo saw her pale blue eyes looked weary, like someone who’d seen too much of the world’s darkness. He didn’t know what to make of her. Until she pulled the Arkenstone from her sleeve. Then he hated her. Balin looked enraged, more than Bilbo had ever seen, but he didn’t say anything. The other dwarves in similar states. But she held the Arkenstone, which he’d hoped to never see again, and Bilbo had enough of the silence.

“Where did you get that!?” He nearly shouted.

“Well, I had to walk over a few dead bodies,” she bent down to his height, “but it was well worth it.” 

"That stone was meant to stay buried! To stay with the dead!” Bilbo was furious now. Her smile seemed mocking, holding the stone that destroyed his friends, and acting as if they weren’t dead. He'd found out the hard way that he wasn't dreaming, and she was adding insult to injury. He surely hated her. “What right do you have to it?” He was about to cry. Suddenly, she straightened to her full height, eyes growing dark and a grimace replacing her smile. What she said next reminded Bilbo too much of his fallen king.

“I,” she said in a low tone, “have the _only_ right.” She tossed the stone in the air, catching it in her hands. Bilbo was incredulous. He looked to Balin, demanding with his eyes, "explain."

The old dwarf sighed, nodding. “She does. With the king and his heirs dead, the kingdom falls to Velti, Bilbo. The Arkenstone is hers.”

“And just who, may I ask, is she!?!” Bilbo shouted, alight with grief and confusion and anger. She spoke.

“Thorin’s daughter.”

Bilbo turned to her with wide eyes. “What?” He asked, quieter than before.

“Thorin’s daughter” she continued, “The result of possibly the worst marriage in all of middle earth. A shame to my mother and a burden to my father, I assure you.”

“But…you’re…” it was too much to take in and Bilbo blurted out the first thing to come to his mind, which in hindsight was quite rude. “You’re…you’re too tall to be a dwarf.”

She roared with laughter. “Only half dwarf, if you must know.” Bilbo scowled. He'd had enough of her jovial mood. “Now, as dreary as Erebor is, all this death is just too much to bear. I was never one for funerals, and I think it’s time this one ended.” She moved to Thorin, _her father,_ Bilbo corrected in his mind, pressing a hand to the side of his face. She backed up, glancing stoically at Fili and Kili, as if meeting them for the first time. “Do you see this, Bilbo?” She held up the Arkenstone so it lit up the room with colorful facets of light. “What do you make of it?”

Bilbo remembered Thorin speaking of it. _It was a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon!_ The king seemed bewitched. While the physical descriptions were true, he remembered with clarity the more sinister powers of the stone. Glaring at Velti, he spoke fire, “That stone is a curse, the most wretched thing to ever come out of the Earth.”

The smile reappeared on Velti’s face. “Oh, I agree.” The room was silent except for Velti’s quiet laughter. She cradled the stone in one hand, saying, “But it's worth a pretty penny, don’t you agree?” With that, she took the stone and smashed it into the ground. While it had seemed sturdy to Bilbo, now there was a hairline crack and the other dwarves looked upon it in horror. While they shared Bilbo’s sentiment, there was a lingering sense of pride in the crown jewel of Erebor’s treasure.

“What do you think you’re doin’ lass?!?” Bofur screamed, incredulous. Bilbo thought they all seemed ready to attack, Dwalin even having drawn his axe. The hobbit noticed Gandalf had mostly remained silent, leaning up against a wall on Fili’s side of the room, as if expecting this to happen.

“I’m saving your king.” She snarled at the hostile dwarves. Bilbo looked back at the stone and saw the glow fading. No, not fading, moving. All light in the stone seemed drawn to the fracture, as if a baby bird trying to push through an eggshell. The half-dwarf woman waved her hand, and the light slowly trickled free, suspended in the air. It moved upwards to her outstretched hand, and when all light seemed drained from the Arkenstone, it broke in two, looking no more than a brittle piece of slate. He looked up at the woman, all the dwarves following suit, as she looked curiously at the pulsing light in her hands. “This is the true legacy of Thrór. An enchantment, leading Erebor to its downfall.”

“What, like some…some kind of dark magic?” Bilbo asked, unable to look away from the light.

“I don’t bother with distinctions between dark and light magic. Nasty little subtleties, unless you’re concerned with the good of others. That’s more Galdalf’s area, I believe.” She nodded her head in the wizard’s direction, he received it with a frown. “I’m far too selfish for that. Magic of any kind will serve my purpose, and something as powerful as this would be a shame to put to waste.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but notice Gandalf walk out of the room, wanting nothing to do with the woman and her magic. She gasped and suddenly the light seemed sucked into her hands, leaving her palms with an eerie glow. She walked to Kili and stroked his head, waving her hands over him, and whispering. Some of the light seemed to go into him, and his deathly palor eased, tan returning to his skin. Bilbo couldn’t make out her whispers but he was sure they were in a language he didn’t know. She crossed the room to Fili’s slab, touching her forehead to his before gently mimicking her actions with Kili. Then she came to the king. Before anything, she snatched his crown and put it on her own head, turning to Thorin and talking to him. “Doesn’t quite suit me, does it, Khagam*?” Her voice broke on the word _Khagam_ , the only waver in confidence Bilbo had seen from her. She bent down and kissed Thorin’s forehead, before running her hands above him and chanting, this time, Bilbo heard her. “Ai-menu Duzhuk, Khagam. Tabkana udu aznân, atkât, askad. Rasasa, Thanu men, nakha ana Ghunum Bulnd. Ala abad garada arras, atama gagin.”* The last of her magic seeped into Thorin, and he, like his nephews, seemed to be sleeping.

She kissed his forehead again, and Bilbo noticed she seemed to be crying. A tear rolled down her cheek and hit Thorin’s forehead, and the hobbit swore he saw the King’s brow twitch. Velti stood and turned away, kicking the skeleton of the Arkenstone and pulling her hood over her long hair. Bilbo was about to let her go. The silence was deafening, her steps grew quicker.

“Gajut men.”*

The sound was so faint, Bilbo was sure he’d imagined it. But Velti stopped, just before passing the hobbit. She turned, facing the king. She lifted the stolen crown from her head, placing it at Thorin’s feet. “Dijnu hyadâkh ghivasha, urùthûkhikizu hyêmrûr ra hurumizu tada khajimuhîzd ana zu.”*

Again, a whisper came from the sleeping king. “Men lananubukhs menu.”* She paused.

“Achrâchi gabilul.”*

With that, she was gone. In the wake of her retreat the other dwarves seemed frozen. Then he realized. Bilbo ran up to the funeral slab and leaned over Thorin’s face. He hadn’t opened his eyes, but he was breathing. “Thorin!” He begged, hoping, once again, that he wasn’t dreaming.

“Calm down burglar.” Thorin’s great hand came up and ruffled his hair. He smiled, then opened his eyes to look at the hobbit. “Forgive me, Bilbo, unless...you wish to leave too.”

“O-o-o-of course I forgive you, Th-thorin, I…” But seeing his eyes for the first time in days was too much for the hobbit. He couldn’t form any words, so he just stared into the king’s eyes. It seemed to the hobbit that they were the only two in the room, when suddenly-

“Just kiss already!” Came the sound of Fili’s voice. When he and Kili erupted into twin shrieks of echoing laughter, the dwarves surrounded them, the silence broken as they celebrated this second chance at life. It gave Bilbo time to blush and look away, but soon all was forgiven and the company was headed off for dinner in the kitchens of Erebor. But before he left, Bilbo turned to look, and he saw, just outside the gates, one tall, grey wizard, standing in the rain, his hand on the shoulder of a woman cloaked in green. She was kneeling in the desperate posture of one who refused to come home. His hand was grabbed and he turned to see Bofur dragging him away, and when he looked back, Gandalf and Velti were gone.

*Father

*At your service, father. Wake from darkness, silence, shadow. Rise, my king, come to the lonely mountain. This mountain fears the flames, breathe again.

*Forgive me.

*Trust is a rare treasure, hand it out scarcely and honor those that give it to you.

*I love you.

*I’m sorry.


	2. Of Hidden Pasts and Hopeful Futures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo can't sleep. He's too worried that he's going crazy or something. Thorin calms him down by braiding his hair, and Bilbo learns the story behind the woman who saved his king.
> 
> **This is where the Bagginshield gets super cray-cray.**

The company had hoped to feast until dawn, but the yawning of the royals cut their party short. It had occurred to no one that resurrection might be a particularly draining experience. Dwalin quickly set to work having the other dwarves clear out two more rooms, Fili and Kili choosing to share one. The rooms were dusty, but otherwise undamaged by the occupation of Smaug. Fili and Kili fell asleep once they hit the pillow, as evidenced by the snores coming from the room. Thorin gave the company one last majestic look of gratitude before he slammed his door and presumably followed suit with his nephews.

The other dwarves said their goodnights, not sure what else to do, deciding to wait until morning to restart their celebration. Bilbo decided to stay indefinitely, for his friends were alive and his wizard guide had vanished. He unpacked the things he’d packed just hours before, amazed how quickly his outlook had changed. He knew he should sleep, but he simply could not, so he sat on the edge of his bed watching the dancing candle flame on the bedside table. He didn’t know how long he watched it flicker up and down, but a quiet, deep voice startled him from his trance. “Can’t sleep?”

Bilbo snapped his head around to look at the king standing in his doorway, as regal, he thought, as the day he met him at Bag-End. He gave the king a bittersweet smile. “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and find you back on that slab, I can’t go back to that, Thorin.”

Thorin let himself into the room and took a seat beside the hobbit. “Imagine how I feel. Maybe this is a part of being dead. I’m going to be running around in circles until it hits me that none of you are real, that I am no king, Erebor has moved on.”

“Thorin, don’t.” Bilbo stood up and began pacing. “I can’t do this if both of us are unsure. Thorin I saw you charging headlong into your death. I watched you die, I was helpless! And now some stranger shows up at our door, and she’s barely here for ten minutes and already she’s given you your life back.” He paced faster, Thorin watched him, expression unchanging. “I was to head back to the Shire but I’m not even sure where home is anymore!” He was shouting now, letting out the emotion he hadn’t dared show in the throne room. He was glad for Erebor’s stone walls. “How could you, you….go off and die?!” At this point Bilbo was pulling at his hair, facing away from Thorin and about to break down. “I had to watch you die, Thorin, I-“

He was cut short when the dwarf king came up behind him, picking him up and taking him back to his bed. He set the hobbit in front of him and started carding his fingers through his hair, stroking it while Bilbo cried. “Clearly you need this more than I do," The soft curls cont fasted sharply with his calloused hands. "I’ve been through many wars but I think this might have been your first." 

“Wha-what are you doing?” Bilbo asked between sobs.

“Braiding your hair.”

Bilbo blinked. It was strange, out of place. “Why?” He couldn’t think of what he’d done that led to this.

“So you stop trying to rip it out of your skull.” Thorin took three strands at the top of his head and began working his way back.

Oh. Had he been that bad? Bilbo took a deep breath and let the dwarf plait his hair, focusing on stopping his tears. He realized there were so many questions unanswered. “So…” he trailed off. He hoped Thorin would catch on and save Bilbo from a potentially rude question. 

Thankfully for the hobbit, Thorin was also dwelling on his past. It was the elephant in the room, and the King knew he had some explaining to do. “Before Smaug took Erebor, my mother was quite preoccupied with turning me into a suitable young dwarf prince. And one of her notions was that I should be married before my grandmother died. She set about searching.” Bilbo listened intently, intrigued by the dwarf’s hidden past. “One year the forest was producing little, and the elves blamed us. My grandfather needed a way to secure our then-alliance, and my mother saw a way to kill two birds with one stone. She discussed this with Thror and-“

“No! You? Married to an…elf?” Bilbo wanted to burst out laughing.

Given the situation, Thorin was glad the hobbit was mocking him. At least now Bilbo wasn't crying, even if the laughtrr was at thr King's expense. "I’m glad you’re no longer beside yourself with sadness. But…unfortunately, yes. Caenis was powerful, Thranduil relied on her magic to keep the forest thriving. To go from a caretaker of the forest to a dwarf princess is a massive step up in position, but Caenis loathed it. We were married, but I hardly saw her, she spent most of her time in the forest. One day she disappeared completely, and I can say I felt no loss. Then, some months later, I found a bundle outside of my chambers. I thought it was food at first, but it moved and squeaked like a mouse. I brought it into my room to get a good look at it, and I saw it was a child. A note accompanied her, saying ‘I believe this belongs to you. –Caenis’. That was the last I ever heard of her. As soon as I saw my daughter’s face, however, I knew I loved her more than all the gold in my Grandfather’s kingdom.” Despite his happy declaration, Thorin looked sad.

“But…?” Bilbo asked, not sure if the dwarf would answer him.

“But I was young and stupid. I thought I didn’t know the first thing about being a father, so I didn’t even try. Erebor fell less than a year after Velti came to me, and more and more I forgot I loved her. I left her in Dís’ care when we went to reclaim Moria*, and when I came back from the battle, she’d run away. This was the first I’ve spoken to her since.”

“Thorin…”Bilbo didn’t know what to say. “I’m s-“.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize, don’t feel sorry. I do not deserve her forgiveness.” The room grew quiet and Bilbo let Thorin concentrate on his hair. The king finished Bilbo’s braid. From what the hobbit could feel it went all the way around his head in a crown-like fashion. He felt around his head, admiring how soft the braid felt, until he got to an obstruction in the back of his head.

“Is this a…bead?” Bilbo blushed remembering something Bofur had told him about Dwarf culture. Dwarves didn’t braid each others’ hair unless they were family or lovers. And if gifted a bead, it meant something more. And since Bilbo wasn’t coming of age and it wasn’t a special occasion, that could only mean that Thorin gave him a bead because he wanted to…oh. Oh no. No! He was not going to court a dwarf king! Especially not one who seemed to want to throw his bloody life away in order to die a majestic, heroic death.

He turned around to look at the dwarf king and saw he had his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. He saw in Bilbo’s eyes that he _knew._ Crap. Thorin looked for a way out, for once forgetting how to be majestic. “I…um…found it in the gold pile and thought it would look nice in your hair?” His voice grew higher pitched at the end of his sentence and he hoped Bilbo wouldn’t notice.

Bilbo rolled his eyes, and that was when he saw it. A bead, missing from one of the braids hanging down from the side of Thorin’s face. Bilbo grabbed the braid and held it up so the part with the missing bead was at eye level with Thorin. “Care to explain this?”

Thorin knew he’d been caught. “Since you’re so adamant, I’m guessing you know what it means in Dwarf culture.” Oh, he knew all too well what it meant. “Well then, what’s your answer?”

Bilbo opened his mouth to say _no_ but his thoughts caught up to his words. He’d just been sobbing about how he couldn’t go on without the dwarf in his life and here he was with an offer of courtship. The dwarf looked…dejected? Was that even a thing with Thorin? He’d never seen the dwarf defeated in battle but the way Thorin was looking at him must have been similar. Why did he even bother fighting it? He had his answer.

“Just shut up and let me braid your hair, you oaf.”  

 

*Velti would have been around 30 years old during the battle for Moria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May or may not make more chapters, depending on how this one is received.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't tell if I'm glad I wrote this, or if it's trash. Oh well. :P


End file.
